Like Walking On Eggshells
by FileNotFound
Summary: When the unthinkable happens the hardest part is picking up the pieces and trying to move on.
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing, this is purely for entertainment.

* * *

"They're gonna find him."

"We're gonna get him back."

"I know they're going to find him this time."

* * *

The beam from the flashlight cut through the dark like a knife illuminating small areas. Dust swirled in the air. The living room was clear. No signs of a struggle.

* * *

"He has to be there."

"He'll be alright. They'll find him and he'll be alright."

It had already been so long. How many days had gone by? This had to be the place. It had to be right this time.

* * *

The kitchen was clear. Everything was in its place. Nothing out of order. Nothing made a sound. The beam of light kept searching. Check everywhere. Simple orders. Not in closets. Not in pantries. Not in cupboards. One beam met another. A quick flash. Jacket, badge, gun at the ready. Keep searching.

* * *

It was taking so long. Why did it always have to take so long?

Anxious bodies hopped up and down. Hands clasped together covered worried mouths.

"He's in there. I know he's in there."

Hands shook with anxiety. It had already been so long. How many weeks had gone by?

* * *

Small hallway. One at a time. The end of the hall bright from the beams all pointed in the same direction. All needing to know. Three doors. It was best to split up. One per door. Maybe they'd get lucky. Maybe this time they'd have a happy ending. Maybe it wasn't too late.

* * *

"It's all going to be okay."

"They're gonna find him. They're gonna find him. They're gonna…"

"He's going to be in there. I know he's in there."

"Please just let this be over. Please, please, please just let this be over."

* * *

Doors opened cautiously. The beam of light enters first. Bathroom's clear. No closets to hide in. Two beams searching. Not under the bed. Windows still locked. One beam of light to illuminate per room. Check every corner. Check every blind spot. Not in the closet. One room clear. Two beams of light help the last. Three beams searching, searching, searching… found something.

* * *

"He's in there. I know he's in there."

"Can't they hurry up? Why is this taking so long?"

"Is he in there? I need to know if he's in there!"

* * *

A door opens. Everything falls silent. Four young faces look up, searching, searching, searching. If it wasn't so dark they could see better. Why hadn't they done this during the day? Why hadn't they done this sooner? Why hadn't they figured it out quicker?

A man steps out of the apartment building. Blue shirt, dark pants. Something shiny on his shirt catches the light. He's holding a flashlight. There's a gun strapped to his hip. Looking up he sees them. They're watching him. Waiting, wondering. He lowers his head. If only they'd been faster. Why did it take so long? Why did it always take too long?

A woman steps out of the apartment building. Light blue blouse, light grey pants. Nothing shiny on her shirt to catch the light. She's holding a flashlight. There's a gun strapped to her hip. She looks at them. Four pair of eyes catch hers. She doesn't look away.

A man steps out of the apartment building. They're not paying attention. All eyes glued to the woman in the blue blouse. She's walking toward them. Her eyes flick between each pair. Her dark hair is pulled back out of her face. Her skin's pale but maybe that's just from the lack of light. She's close enough to see her eyes are brown.

Stopping in front of them she has to look down only slightly. She'll hold their gaze for a second before moving to the next one. She takes a breath. She finally looks past them. Four figures stop talking. They walk closer. They look at the woman. They catch her gaze. She has to look up only slightly. The eight figures hold their breath. Everyone knows its bad news. Maybe this is why no one can speak. Maybe this is why time seems to move so slowly.

A tall figure walks out of the shadows. Standing behind the eight he's easily the tallest one there. Steel grey eyes glare at the woman. Lips pressed tight to form a line. He doesn't have time for this. It's time things sped up.

"Where's my grandson?"

The voice is rough and demanding. Eight figures in front of him take a breath. Time speeds up again. The woman looks down for the first time. She can't meet his eyes. She takes a breath and lifts her arm.

"This is all we found."

Her voice is sad. She feels for them. She wanted to find him too. There's not a flashlight in her hand. Instead it's a piece of paper. The man grabs it, his eyes still glaring. Four pair of eyes watch it move. Four young heads turn to see. A light catches the paper and reflects. As the man flips the paper they see an image. It's not a paper but a photo. The man snarls.

"What does this mean?"

The voice is rough. The voice is angry. Why was this the best they could do? Wasn't he paying them enough? Why weren't they doing their jobs?

"I'm sorry."

Her voice is sad. She's still looking at the ground. She doesn't know what else to say. If only they had figured it out sooner. If only they had been faster. If only they were better. This was their last clue. How could she tell them they had nothing left? How could she tell them they'd reached a dead end? How could she tell them he was gone and they had no idea where he was?

A streetlight overhead flickers on. Suddenly the area is illuminated. Eight pair of eyes stare at the photo. Two figures. The taller is smiling, eyes sparking at the camera. He's holding the camera with one hand pointing it at them to take the photo. The other hand is on the shoulder of the smaller one, his arm hidden behind the boy's body. The boy isn't smiling. He's not frowning either, but he looks sad. His eyes aren't looking at the camera instead they look past it. Toward what you can't be sure. A mixture of emotions in those crimson eyes, lost and sad and oh so very alone. On the back of the photo written in neat tight print the note: "Sorry we couldn't stay longer."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: So, um, I guess I started this story quite some time ago, wrote this part, changed it, forgot about it, went back to school, did some other stuff, went back to it, and then, now, have decided to post this thing. Yea, so I guess that pretty much summarizes my life. Please insert normal 'I don't own this stuff' here. Enjoy the story.

* * *

And just like that a whole year had passed. It was quite an adventurous year filled with wonder and escapades. There were good times, lots of them to be truthful and some not so good times. Mostly the year was spent, after a considerable amount of time was spent looking in vain for their lost comrade, enjoying the scenery and eating good food. But like all things this too eventually ended and the boys found themselves back in the mundane world they had known for so long. Now that we are back in Japan, as that is where this action takes place, though since I know nothing of Japan it will seem much more like America, we can begin the true adventure of these boys and what happens after some unfortunate event, which will, eventually, tie into the beginning of the story with that long winded and strangely written first part.

* * *

Tyson yawned as he sat up in bed stretching his arms above his head. Blinking sleepily he looked around the room. It was empty. He wasn't sure why that surprised him. Being the last one up was a reoccurring theme. You'd think by now he'd be used to it. He scratched his head as he rolled out of bed.

He could smell breakfast cooking. Eggs, bacon, toast. He got dressed quickly. Walking into the kitchen he yawned half way through his greeting of 'morning'. He watched his friend's shake their heads at him. He wasn't sure why that upset him if only ever so slightly. It wasn't even that late, it was only quarter to eleven. He also wasn't sure why his friends kept shaking their heads at him, like they really expected anything different.

But this was how the days went. He'd be the last one up. He'd get dressed and stumble into the kitchen just as breakfast was being put on the table. After they ate they'd head to the park. There they'd get some blading practice in. Maybe they'd battle some random kids or else they'd just battle each other. Eventually they'd get tired or hungry and would call it a day. When they got home they'd make dinner. Usually Gramps would be making dinner when they arrived. After they ate they'd sit around and talk or watch TV. Then, after enough time, they'd each get tired and drift to bed one by one. The next day would start the same. So was life.

Now don't get him wrong, Tyson liked the structure of his day. He liked how he knew what to expect. He had grown to hate surprises. But after so much of the same maybe it was time for things to change. If only ever so slightly. Maybe that was why things had started to bug him that normally hadn't before. Maybe he was just looking for change.

It did seem to him that lately he'd been making a big deal of things that shouldn't be made big deals of. It was all part of the 'overanalyzing everything he thought of' faze he seemed to currently be in. He couldn't wait for that faze to end so he could enter into the 'being childishly stupid and loving everything' faze. For now he brooded silently to himself.

* * *

Tyson walked quietly behind the group. Max and Kenny talked amongst themselves. Ray was in front. They were heading to the park. What a shock. Tyson continued to mope about the day.

They hadn't participated in a tournament since Russia. As much as they wanted to they just couldn't bring themselves to actually enter. It just wouldn't be the same without him. Tyson sighed. He hated thinking along those lines. He hated how it made him mad and sad at the same time. He hated that he was mostly mad at himself now. He hated that he had practically moved on. He hated that when he thought of entering new tournaments the fact that they were going to be different didn't depress him anymore. He hated that he was excited about it. He hated that losing him hadn't been the end of the world. Or at least it didn't seem like that anymore.

The park was filled with the usual kids, each of them wanting to battle one of the world champions. Tyson wondered if they were still considered 'world champions'. He felt not being in another tournament meant being able to keep the title. Somehow that still seemed like a cheap loophole to him. He really didn't feel like blading today. He told his friends and walked around the park. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Max battling some kid. He didn't turn to watch.

After walking for a few hours he was tired. It was time to head back anyway. As he walked back to his friends he could see Ray was battling some kid now. Kenny was sitting on the side analyzing the battle. Max was somewhere. Tyson sighed. He had wanted to just head home. As he got closer he looked around at the other kids. Maybe he'd talk to one of them.

A kid caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to inspect the kid closer. He looked about his age. He was standing out of the way by a tree. He was just a normal kid, black converse, blue jeans, grey long sleeve shirt, pale skin, brown hair. The kid was watching Ray's battle lazily. He didn't seem very interested. Tyson shrugged. Why not he thought.

"You blade?" Tyson asked once he was close enough to the kid that he didn't have to yell. Said kid turned to look at him. Crimson eyes looked him up and down. "No" he replied bluntly before turning his head away. He didn't seem very interested in Tyson either.

"You've got red eyes." Tyson couldn't stop himself. He'd only ever known one person with red eyes. His heart beat a little faster.

"So?" the kid snapped back, "you got a problem with that?" Tyson blinked. He hadn't meant any offence. The kid was glaring at him however obviously finding Tyson's remark rather insulting.

"Ah, wait, oh um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it I swear. I, I like them. Ah, red eyes I mean. I, I used to know someone with red eyes. Ah." Tyson stuttered out. The kid still glared at him. Tyson felt his cheeks heat up. He needed to change the subject. "So what's your name? Um, I'm Tyson." Tyson recovered slightly extending his hand toward the kid.

"Alex" was all the kid said. He didn't reach for Tyson's hand. He did, however, stop glaring.

"Oh, ah, cool." Tyson said in reply. He lowered his hand to his side. This was going well.

"You're kind of an idiot aren't you?" Alex finally stated after a few minutes of silence.

"What? No! I, I am not!" Tyson bumbled out. He had just met this kid and he was already being insulted. How great. The bumbling caused Alex to smirk.

"Sorry, I just call them as I see them." He said, a light laugh in his voice. He watched Tyson fluster some more. Tyson finally recovered and glared at the kid.

"Well at least I don't come off as a jerk." Tyson snapped back a bit louder than intended. As soon as the words were out he dreaded them. His eyes got wide. For some reason he was sure he was going to get punched. He was quite surprised when he heard a small chuckle.

"Well played sir." Alex responded. The smirk was still on his face. And all at once the air was clear. All at once it seemed like they were friends, or at least acquaintances. And all at once Tyson didn't feel awkward about talking to this kid.

"So if you don't blade why are you watching anyway?" It was mostly to continue the conversation. It was partially because he was curious.

Alex shrugged. "I like to watch."

"I'm not going to lie but that kinda makes you sound like a creeper stalker creepy guy."

"You definitely should have tried to use the word creep one more time."

"Believe me I tried but I didn't want to just say creep."

"True, it's not very classy."

"Not at all." Tyson smiled and scratched the back of his head. "Wow, that was a good conversation to have with a kid I just met."

"Yea, it's almost like we're friends or something."

"Tyson." A voice called from somewhere behind him. By the voice Tyson knew it was Max. He didn't turn though. Soon he felt a presence close behind him and a voice by his ear.

"Tyson we're leaving, oh hi."

Max looked past Tyson at Alex. "I'm Max" he said and extended his hand.

"Alex" was the blunt reply. He didn't extend his own hand.

Max blinked. This kid was sure rude. He was secretly glad they were leaving.

"Ah, Tyson, we're leaving, come on." With that Max said his goodbye and left to meet up with the others.

Tyson looked at Alex. He smiled sheepishly. "I gotta go."

"Yep" Alex stated bluntly. He turned to go without saying goodbye.

"See ya tomorrow?" Tyson called after him. This caused Alex to stop and turn. Once again facing Tyson he smirked.

"Sure"

With that they both turned and headed home.


End file.
